


A Very Typical Day for One Tony Stark

by jacobby



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Panic Attacks, Tony Stark Has Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 17:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20911430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacobby/pseuds/jacobby
Summary: He’s usually appalled by alarms, except this alarm only smells like fresh breath and aftershave, and has a penchant for smacking his ass first thing in the morning.





	A Very Typical Day for One Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be for the first leg of SteveTony Bingo 2019, but i missed the deadline :^( and kind just forgotten about this and all the other fics i havent written for some of the other prompts. this specific fic was for the prompt "a day in the life." hope you enjoy!

> **10:06 AM**

Tony hears an alarm. 

He’s usually appalled by alarms, especially the loud ones that never seemed to stop talking in their slightly electronic voice, informing Tony of the time, the temperature, the weather, and his schedule for the day. That alarm, he usually ignores. 

Except this alarm only smells like fresh breath and aftershave, and has a penchant for smacking his ass first thing in the morning.

He opens one eye.

“You missed breakfast with the team,” Steve says.

“More like skipped,” Tony grunts. “On purpose. Because I wanted to.” 

“Sure. Come on, get up.” Steve pulls him to his feet. 

Tony groans but lets himself be manhandled. 

> **10:34 AM**

He eats leftover pancakes and gulps down three mugs of coffee—although the latter was completely against Steve’s wishes. Tony wins his boyfriend’s favor by shoving pancakes into his mouth. 

Steve no longer has fresh breath. Now he smells like strawberries and syrup. 

Tony kisses him with tongue just to prove his working theory that not only does Steve smell like strawberries and syrup, he _ tastes _ like strawberries and syrup. Tony considers this theory both accurate and precise.

> **11:00 AM**

Steve helps Tony brush his teeth. This is completely against Tony’s wishes. 

Tony doesn’t need to be babied. Tony can brush his own teeth. 

But his right arm was hurting again, and Steve is convinced that he can do a better job than Tony’s left hand with his dental hygiene. 

“Just let me help, Tony.”

Tony is convinced Steve is convinced he still has to make amends for all the bullshit that happened in the past. Tony is convinced Steve doesn’t need to beat himself over it because he has forgiven Steve a long time ago. 

Tony opens his mouth to say something but his tongue is caught by the brush’s bristles. 

He shoos Steve away as he steps into the shower. 

> **12:00 PM**

Tony gave his company to Pepper so he could avoid exactly what he is doing right now. 

Sadly, Tony just cannot escape every meeting, especially after skipping the last ten meetings because a.) Tony has not been feeling well for the past few months, and b.) Tony saved the world. He deserves a good ten outs. 

“Just ten minutes,” Pepper says. Firmly. With her hands on her hips. “Just sit still for ten minutes.” 

Tony abides, but not before his phone pings with a text from Steve. 

‘text me when youre done. dont forget to smile even around stinky old men. :) i love you. <3’ 

Tony replies, ‘stinky old men like you :p’

Tony doesn’t stop smiling even after sitting for what felt like hours and listening to some guy complaining about money. Not even when he feels the sticky, sweaty palm of some stockholder with whom he has just shaken hands.

> **3:00 PM**

Tony spends a large chunk of his day running. Running meant freedom. Running meant moving forward. Running meant he could stare at America’s ass jiggling with every step. 

> **5:00 PM**

Tony spends a smaller chunk of his time making love with Steve on their couch, on their carpeted floors, on their bed. 

> **5:30 PM**

Tony spends an equally small amount of time getting fucked hard by Steve in the shower.

> **6:00 PM**

It isn’t quite bedtime yet. But it also isn’t a busy part of the day. Tony can’t decide on whether he should head down to his workshop for some upgrades or take Steve out for some fancy dinner date. 

Tony settles for a nap. 

Steve settles under Tony’s arms. 

This beats technological advancement and a large medium rare steak any day.

> **7:00 PM**

What _ does _ beat a good nap with your supersoldier boyfriend, however, is good old-fashioned shawarma delivered to your doorstep. Tony and Steve eat their meal while watching an episode of Black Mirror. 

Tony rolls his eyes for the characters’ lack of foresight.

> **8:00 PM**

Tony scrolls through a list of gadgets and suits he needs to modify for the team. Peter’s suit is in bold letters with a lot of exclamation points. Tony settles to start with that.

He moved on to Steve’s suit, new prototypes for his shield, Clint’s arrows. Hell, even a new gun for Rocket in case they make their way back to Earth. 

He might just be able to finish everything on the list by the time it’s morning. 

> **12:00 AM**

Or not.

Because Steve is pushing him to head to bed. Pushing him to sleep. And persistent Steve is one thing. Persistent Steve is something that isn’t exactly a secret to the rest of the team—although Tony does have a slightly altered version of persistent Steve that’s just a little bit softer and sweeter. 

But nope. Not tonight. Tonight, it’s whiny Steve. And whiny Steve is clingy. Whiny Steve can activate his puppy dog eyes without missing a beat. Which he does. And Tony’s fucked. 

So he heads to bed. His heart just a little faster, but his mind a little calmer. 

> **12:15 AM**

Tony closes his eyes but cannot immediately fall asleep. He twists and turns and sits up then lies back down.

Steve eyes him but does not speak. He only offers his hand to Tony. 

Tony takes it and closes his eyes again. He finally drifts off with visions of stones, a broken hand and dust in the wind. 

> **3:00 AM**

He clutches at his chest, practically tearing his shirt open. He feels his fingernails on his skin. He cannot breathe. He needs to breathe. Tony doesn’t want to die. Not anymore. Not since they started fixing things, since they started fixing themselves. 

A jolt of pain ran through his right arm, like it was getting stabbed, electrocuted, torn to shreds. He doesn’t understand. All he knows is that it hurts. God, does it hurt. He tries to scream, but all he can manage is a choked cry. 

He feels a finger on his cheeks. He opens his eyes. 

It’s Steve.

“Shh,” he says. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He shows Tony how to breathe, like it’s the easiest thing to do. Steve talks to him like he is a child.

In that moment, he feels like a child. Maybe even wants to be a child again. Just away from all this…crap. 

He wants his nightmares to stay nightmares. Not reality to keep haunting him in his dreams.

“There we go,” Steve says. “Breathe. Just like that.” 

Steve’s hand is on Tony’s chest. 

Tony notices that he’s been clutching Steve’s hand with whatever power he has left. He lets go when his breathing doesn’t feel too forced. 

Steve gets a hold of his wrist, then kisses his palm. 

“Let’s get you something to drink.” 

> **3:27 AM**

They head to the kitchen.

Tony still feels light-headed. He downs a few glasses of water. 

Steve prepares his mother’s hot chocolate. 

Tony’s mind is still muddled, still filled with flashes of light and dust and aliens. 

So Steve does all the talking. 

He talks about the Black Mirror episode. He talks about the dog he saw when they went for a run. He talks about bumping into some old veterans. He talks about his lunch with Bucky and Sam, and Sam’s insistence that pigeons are spies trained by the Russians. He talks about Sam’s implication that Bucky is just a bunch of pigeons inside a skinsuit. 

Tony smiles behind his mug. 

“There it is.” 

“There’s what?” Tony asks. 

“Nothing.” Steve shakes his head. “Feeling better?” 

“Feeling...distracted,” Tony admits. “But yeah. A little. I feel better. But nothing too different yet.” 

Steve kisses his forehead. “We’ll get there.”

> **5:00 AM**

Tony doesn’t immediately fall asleep. 

Instead, he revels in Steve’s small kisses on his temple, his nose, the edge of his lips. He likes the feeling of Steve’s eyelashes fluttering on his cheek. He likes hearing Steve’s voice, still talking about his thoughts and questions on the nonsensical—most likely because of the late hour—and mundane—most likely from Steve just needing to feel human, and trying to pass that humanity to Tony.

It’s Steve’s voice that usually lulls Tony to sleep. That night—well, morning, but Tony isn’t complaining—isn’t any different. Tony blinks once, twice, and then closes his eyes altogether. 

Steve draws out a few more words along with a yawn. “We better get some shuteye.” 

“Eyes are already shut, darling,” Tony breathes. 

Steve chuckles, low and short. “My voice is that boring?”

“No,” Tony says. “Not boring. Clears my mind. Makes me feel...better.” Either it’s his lack of sleep or his age that’s bringing down his defenses. Maybe it’s both. Or maybe it’s just Steve. “You make me feel better.” 

Steve leans in, and smiles into Tony’s lips. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Tony yawns along, and finally drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on my [tumblr](http://www.jacobbyart.tumblr.com)!


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